she’s easier to watch than that youn’en, and don’t have to worry ‘bout her drip- pin’ like that boy done. I swear, I ain’t never seen no kid that leaks like that’en.” Hank sighed with relief. It had been a strain on his tolerance to watch over the baby, and he was delighted that it was over.
“I’ll try to get back a little earlier this evening.” Jim stood and grabbed his hat. “We’ll be in the south branch of Falling Creek.”
“Water’s still running pretty high,” Woods offered.
“Gonna have a whole bunch of ‘em bogged down.” Hank referred to the calves who got stuck in the mud and were too weak to pull themselves free. If not found in time, they would starve to death.
Jim left the bunkhouse, a feeling of freedom carrying him toward the barn. It was good to have things back to normal.
With the baby in one arm and her dirty clothes in the other, March stood at the bottom of the stairs with her mouth hanging open. Last night in the dark she’d had an impression of the size of the house, but now the morning light showed her exactly what she hadn’t been able to see.
“It’s a castle, Jamie,” she whispered to the baby. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life.”
Stepping slowly off of the highly polished stair, she didn’t know where to look first. Through the double doors to her right was a room twice the size of the shack she’d been living in with ten other people. The fireplace was large enough to roast a steer, and the green patterned rug stretched on forever. Large boxes and crates sat in the middle of the room, but she didn’t dare enter to peek.
March looked into each room where a door stood open. She was disappointed that most of the rooms were empty of furniture, carpeting, and drapes, but just the size was staggering. She didn’t open closed doors, afraid that somehow Jim would find out that she’d been nosing around and would get angry.
Wandering down a long hall, March found one room that was more magnificent to her than all the others combined. Spellbound, she stood in the doorway until the squirming baby attracted her attention.
“Look, Jamie,” she whispered in awe. “Just look at all the books. Aren’t they beautiful?” She kissed the baby and readjusted him in her arms.
“I’m gonna read them, Jamie. Someday I’m going to know every word in those books. Someday all those funny lines and circles are going to make sense to me.
“Before I die, I’m going to learn to read.” It was a promise and a prayer. “Even if the learning kills me.”
FIVE
The kitchen was a big, square room with windows facing the east. A smooth oak table, flanked by eight chairs, occupied the middle of the room, while endless shelves, cabinets, and work space lined the walls. March marveled at the hand pump that drained into a tin-lined sink, making endless trips to the well a thing of the past. She pumped it several times and grinned as the cool, clear water splashed into the sink and then down the drain hole.
Out of necessity, she had discovered that the door at the back led outside, but in spite of curiosity that was nearly painful, refrained from opening the other two doors in the room. Her stomach rumbled noisily, reminding her that the only food she’d eaten yesterday had been at breakfast.
“What am I going to do with you, while I try to find something to eat?” she asked the sleeping baby in her arms. She couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him alone upstairs.
Returning to his bedroom, stopping frequently to admire all the delightful things that surrounded her, March grabbed the soft blanket from his bed. She carried it to the kitchen, folded it into a thick pallet near the table, and carefully laid him in the center.
Feeling like a thief in search of hidden treasures, March opened one cabinet door after the other. They were filled with such marvelous treasures that her thoughts of food were forgotten in her desire to determine
“I’ll try to get back a little earlier this evening.” Jim stood and grabbed his hat. “We’ll be in the south branch of Falling Creek.”
“Water’s still running pretty high,” Woods offered.
“Gonna have a whole bunch of ‘em bogged down.” Hank referred to the calves who got stuck in the mud and were too weak to pull themselves free. If not found in time, they would starve to death.
Jim left the bunkhouse, a feeling of freedom carrying him toward the barn. It was good to have things back to normal.
With the baby in one arm and her dirty clothes in the other, March stood at the bottom of the stairs with her mouth hanging open. Last night in the dark she’d had an impression of the size of the house, but now the morning light showed her exactly what she hadn’t been able to see.
“It’s a castle, Jamie,” she whispered to the baby. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life.”
Stepping slowly off of the highly polished stair, she didn’t know where to look first. Through the double doors to her right was a room twice the size of the shack she’d been living in with ten other people. The fireplace was large enough to roast a steer, and the green patterned rug stretched on forever. Large boxes and crates sat in the middle of the room, but she didn’t dare enter to peek.
March looked into each room where a door stood open. She was disappointed that most of the rooms were empty of furniture, carpeting, and drapes, but just the size was staggering. She didn’t open closed doors, afraid that somehow Jim would find out that she’d been nosing around and would get angry.
Wandering down a long hall, March found one room that was more magnificent to her than all the others combined. Spellbound, she stood in the doorway until the squirming baby attracted her attention.
“Look, Jamie,” she whispered in awe. “Just look at all the books. Aren’t they beautiful?” She kissed the baby and readjusted him in her arms.
“I’m gonna read them, Jamie. Someday I’m going to know every word in those books. Someday all those funny lines and circles are going to make sense to me.
“Before I die, I’m going to learn to read.” It was a promise and a prayer. “Even if the learning kills me.”
FIVE
The kitchen was a big, square room with windows facing the east. A smooth oak table, flanked by eight chairs, occupied the middle of the room, while endless shelves, cabinets, and work space lined the walls. March marveled at the hand pump that drained into a tin-lined sink, making endless trips to the well a thing of the past. She pumped it several times and grinned as the cool, clear water splashed into the sink and then down the drain hole.
Out of necessity, she had discovered that the door at the back led outside, but in spite of curiosity that was nearly painful, refrained from opening the other two doors in the room. Her stomach rumbled noisily, reminding her that the only food she’d eaten yesterday had been at breakfast.
“What am I going to do with you, while I try to find something to eat?” she asked the sleeping baby in her arms. She couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him alone upstairs.
Returning to his bedroom, stopping frequently to admire all the delightful things that surrounded her, March grabbed the soft blanket from his bed. She carried it to the kitchen, folded it into a thick pallet near the table, and carefully laid him in the center.
Feeling like a thief in search of hidden treasures, March opened one cabinet door after the other. They were filled with such marvelous treasures that her thoughts of food were forgotten in her desire to determine
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